


Still

by Captain_Backfire67



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Domestic Avengers, M/M, Stony - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 14:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Backfire67/pseuds/Captain_Backfire67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thunder startles him, but as he straightens himself out, the fear has that pooled in the back of his mind grows into something uncontrollable- a fear that only he could perceive as the inevitable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Superhusbands gif](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/14218) by Evanscakes. 



Outside the extravagant and colorful venue of the Brooklyn Palm House, it rains and it pours. It rains more than any other autumn in recorded New York history, and he takes that as another bad mark. It rains more than cats and dogs- it rains fucking rockets and elephants and he can't help but stare out the many windows in deep thought.

The thunder startles him, but as he straightens himself out, he realizes that the fear that has been collecting at the back of his mind has suddenly grown into something uncontrollable- a fear that only he could perceive as the inevitable.

He swallows and recognizes that this is the worst idea he has ever, ever had in the thirty two years of his meager history.

He yanks harshly at his tie, preparing to unbutton the white shirt under his ridiculously luxurious suit that feels suddenly t constricting, but as he does so, he makes a mad dash for the door. He doesn't slam it and he doesn't make more noise than necessary.

The last thing he needs is a fucking super assassin scaring the literal shit out of him in his Dior custom tailored suit. He looks around before taking off into the main atrium. He pats himself down quietly, panicking as he realizes he doesn't have his cellphone, tablet, or any form of technology that could possibly rescue him. He blinks in the thought that if he runs now, he will be least prepared. He shifts his weight between his legs, shakes his arms out, while deep inside the sudden urge to wrap his fingers around a tall glass of straight up alcohol hits him. He cuffs his right hand around his mouth, and twitches his left arm, looking for the time.

_'Ok, ok, calm down, you can take a train out of here, out of fucking Brooklyn and make it to Malibu. You can...' he thinks to himself as he notes the time._

He has to be gone in an hour and fifteen minutes if he wants a successful escape. He inhales, and looks around once more. Surprisingly, security is lax, and he jots that as a mental note of a good sign.

 _'The scale tilts...'_ He thinks as he crouches lightly to hide under the beautiful gardenias nearby, paranoid that someone is surely on to him.

He sees the massive glass doors straight ahead of him, and makes a beeline for them. He pulls the door lightly, careful not to make any noise, and steps out quickly. He closes the heavy double door, setting it back into place with its other half.

Under the metal awning the harsh sounds of the droplets of rain is amplified and he can barely hear his own swimming and racing thoughts. He shudders in frustration, as he looks back and forth, looking for any signs of a getaway vehicle and most importantly if anyone is on to him yet.

 _'For all days for my luck to set in...'_ He thinks as he stares out at the seemingly never-ending driveway which is now colored as a bright and shining getaway against the gloomy and dark atmosphere of the storm.

He thinks about taking a step out on the gravel, but he remembers his shoes are almost more than the suit itself. He stops, catching himself, and scoffs.

_'It won't matter, you can always buy a new one...daddy dearest left funds for that, fuck! I can buy a new fucking wardrobe if I time this just ri-'_

"Stark?"

He seizes up at the sound of someone calling his name. Before he can recognize the voice he pushes the heavy door behind him in a frantic motion and stumbles, running for any door that can hide him.

He runs past the anemones, the roses, the tulips- all a blur of color in his panicked running. He stops his running and panting, in fear of a chase. He slowly and briskly walks to a white door off to his right, and walks straight into a small partitioned area where he now recognizes the soft murmur of two male voices.

He looks up, and sees the face of one of his truest friends, Bruce. Bruce gives him a brief look of confusion before returning his attention to the man standing in front of him. Bruce has a hand on the man's vest and white buttoned up shirt clad shoulder, the other tugging to straighten the tie. Although the blond man, strong and tall, has his back facing the door, has yet to see the intruder. He exhales in amusement before addressing Bruce in front of him.

"That's good to hear...I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

"Of course not. A very minor setback." The scientist draws out the word very warmly, with affection, before finishing with the blonde man’s tie. Bruce raises an eyebrow in silent daring at the man at the door, before coming to a self-realization; he chuckles, and pats the blonde's shoulder, a friendly gesture before taking his leave. "Take your time getting ready", he says as he exits through a door at the other end of the room.

With the Bruce gone, he is now facing the back of the blonde in an atmosphere of seemingly tangible tension. The blonde sighs, and turns around, facing his lover.

"Tony."

He rubs the stubble on his jaw, his nerves suddenly alive and alert as he stands in front of the man who rolls his name off his tongue in exasperated fondness, instead of maddening frustration.

He smoothly walks to the nearest surface, in the sectioned off area, which is a small makeshift counter with a sink. He places both palms its cold surface, and ducks his head shaking it.

Leave it to Tony fucking Stark to be shitting bricks now.

"Steve...Is this really a good idea?"

Tony verbalizes his fears as he rolls his head up, facing Steve and biting his lip.

Steve sighs, and moves a step closer to him.

"Tony" he puffs out, the name sounding so natural and well placed on his tongue, "why are you even here? It's...its bad luck."

Tony didn't even think of that, yet another tick on the con section of the bad list that is his day. He blinks in frustration, and realizes that this day is probably going to turn out to be the worst day of his life. His eyes become glassy for a moment, but he ignores the emotion welling up solely from his insecurity and swallows roughly. _‘The quicker this starts, the quicker he can get it over with’ he painfully reasons._

"I'm a workaholic, I drink too much, I keep forgetting our date...Fuck! I am surprised I made it here today! Do I need to keep going?! This is a horrible idea. We should just...just- Are you sure about this?"

Tony piles on and on to the list, half of his tone full of fear that yes, Steve will walk out realizing that he, the Captain, the fucking Symbol of America has made the biggest mistake ever; the other half seeped with self-loathing as he knows he can compile an entire list of all his faults and have everyone walk out- somewhat comforted by that notion.

A small chuckle of fondness slaps him back into reality.

Steve, taking a step closer to Tony, fixes his cumber-bund around his waist, rests his own palms on the counter surface and tenses his shoulders upwards.

He smiles fondly and candidly at Tony, before ducking his head. Tony can see the blush burn his cheek bones, till it reaches the shells of his ears.

Steve takes a moment, hums out something of amusement, and then looks Tony straight in the eye.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life."

The ridiculously expensive and impractical glass that was Tony's fear shatters into a million little pieces, under the steady and true motion of the hammer that is and forever will be Steve's sincerity and confidence.

His eyes avert themselves to his shoes, and he awkwardly picks at his cuff-links He closes his eyes, and pulls his lips tightly into a straight-line.

 _'A fool'_ he reflects, once his brain annihilates any leftover thoughts of negativity and lets the warm fuzziness consume him, _' a fool indeed.'_

"Okay." he says as if it's the last decision he will ever have to make, "Let's get married, then."

He looks up and meets Steve's eye with spirited intentions behind them. He grins so hard, his eyes have to blink in the wake of it. Steve looks at him, earnestly, and smiles in response.

"Okay."

They stay in that moment, looking into each other's eyes smiling like a bunch of loons, Tony recognizing that he could have made a far worse decision.

\- - -

The silence of the now occupied atrium is broken, as its occupants stand and face the entrance toward the back of the room.

In that moment, broken from his thoughts, he hesitates to look up. His hands are clasped tightly together in front of him, and he has the sudden urge to run them through his nicely styled hair. He exhales quietly, substituting it for the unsteady and loud sigh he so badly wants to release. He looks around, as the ceremony begins, and fears that someone sees straight through him.

He fears that Bruce, Thor, Natasha, - dammit Clint- Clint Barton of all people will see all the doubt and fear in his face. He shakes his head, flashes his pearly whites to anyone looking his direction. No one on either side of the blooming aisle is looking at him and he is so thankful at that.

The brief thought that maybe Tony's fear earlier was well placed hits him like a well-timed alien death ray.

He imagines things going to hell in a hand basket very quickly. He wonders if he should have had Bruce tell Tony earlier that it was now off, instead of having to tackle that monster himself. His mind creates scenarios of all the things that could possibly go wrong, going catastrophic and he looks over his shoulder, looking for some sort of comfort.

He finds it very quickly. Standing there, in the vintage olive American issue officer’s uniform is James 'Bucky' Barnes, the only man Steve Rogers would have ever considered to be his best man. Bucky chuckles at the panicked expression looming over his best friend's face, before leaning forward and clasping a firm hand on his shoulder. He stays in that stance for what feels like eternities to Steve, before nodding in the direction of the entrance and leaning away.

Steve turns slowly in the direction of the nod, and lets the image wash over him. Arm in arm are Tony and his best man, James 'Rhodey' Rhodes, who walk softly down the aisle of their best friends and loved ones, muttering and laughing lightly. Steve forgets what oxygen is for a moment, and holds Tony's gaze with his own. A warm smile breaks over both their faces, as Tony steps closer, making Steve's heart beat faster and a warm sensation shoot through his chest.

He pulls Tony in with an arm around his waist, after giving Rhodey the biggest and most appreciative smile he can muster, along with a handshake.

He leads Tony to the stand on the altar alongside him, taking his hands in his own. They smile genuinely at one another before turning their attention to the minister.

The words fly over his head in a blur, and he recites his 'yes's' and 'I do's' without pause. Tony chuckles and makes his snide comments, his own response to questions he seems to have answered millions of times before.

"You may now kiss your partner" is all Steve remembers before he gently takes Tony into his harms and presses his lips warmly against his husband’s.

Tony makes some breathless noise, and in that moment Steve casts out any fear, doubt or insecurity he thought previously; with his now husband Tony Stark in his arms, kissing him with fervor and affection, as their closest friends cheer and laugh and clap, he knows he certainly made the right decision.

**Author's Note:**

> So I had a bit of late night inspiration while surfing the net (because I am from the 1990's apparently) and wanted to share it as my first story. I hope you liked it, it's really short and may have some grammar issues. Feel free to point those out, as you see fit. The accompanying pictures + prompt can be found [at this location](http://captain-christmas67.tumblr.com/post/37424575613/the-thunder-startles-him-but-as-he-straightens).
> 
> Kudos to evanscakes for making such beautiful gifs, they are all hers and just...just bless her.
> 
> Also a thanks goes out to the moderators in charge of [ this site](http://imagineyourotp.tumblr.com/post/37363278327/imagine-your-otp-getting-married-despite-the-heavy) for the prompt , as it sedated my wondering mind last night. 
> 
> The title comes from a Matt Nathanson song that has absolutely nothing to do with the actual story. (Sorry)
> 
> Hope you liked it, have a good one!


End file.
